


Who is Who

by levendis



Series: Prompt Fics [32]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Constructed Reality, F/F, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levendis/pseuds/levendis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If this turns out not to be real, her imagination is doing a bang-up job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who is Who

**Author's Note:**

> for anon, who requested: River/Clara - During a particularly enjoyable moment, River accidentally calls her 'Doctor'. This works for Clara /very/ much.
> 
> Written before "Hell Bent" aired, so AU splitting off from FtR I suppose

Clara still doesn’t know where you go when you die. Which seems unfair: she’s dead, she’s in a place, she deserves to know what it is. The great databank in the sky? Parallel dimension? Heaven? Hell, potentially, in case it really had been important to go to church every Sunday?  
  
Wherever here is, she knows it has to be more than a bedroom, quaint bed-and-breakfast furnishings, the sun streaming in through the window. This is a layer, something is underneath. And it’s not just the best translation of an incomprehensible truth her brain can come up with, she’s more interesting than beige settees and ceramic cat statuettes.  
  
Although River, she’s a nice touch. Clara can see putting River into her version of heaven. No grief, no guilt, just a beautiful woman with a very, very talented mouth.  
  
The feeling of River’s curly hair brushing over her nipples is too specific for this to be a dream. The thumb on her clit is too particular, too insistent. This isn’t some last-minute pre-death sexual interlude before she bites the dust. This is real, for a given definition of the word.  
  
(River had called this place a library, but why would there be a B&B in a library? Was that a euphemism? She’d ask, later. Much later.)  
  
The scratchy coverlet, the lust in River’s eyes, the soft solid weight of her. The muscles in her back flexing beneath Clara’s hands. If this turns out not to be real, her imagination is doing a bang-up job.  
  
All those months with Jane, she’d become an expert at this. And that was with a woman who didn’t seem perpetually on the verge of arousal, down for anything, ready and willing. Easy, then, to spread River’s legs, head bowed over her already-wet cunt, and make her scream.  
  
She hadn’t been expecting River to scream that, though. They both still.  
  
“Sorry,” River says. “I’m not sure - please don’t think I’m pretending you’re him, it just came out. Got used to saying his name, I guess.” She brushes Clara’s hair back, kisses her gently, then settles back on the mattress, face like she was trying not to look tense.  
  
“No,” Clara says, drawing the syllable out. “It’s all right. Actually, d'you know what?”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“Say it again. Call me ‘Doctor’. I’m dead, I can be whatever, whoever I want.” She traces her fingernails over the small scar on River’s hip, bites her lower lip, her best cocky do-what-I-say expression in place. Go on, do it.  
  
“You’re an odd one, aren’t you.” River grins wolfishly, then neatly flips them over, pushes a knee between Clara’s thighs.  
  
“Say my name,” Clara gasps out. “Say it.”  
  
“Well, you’re demanding enough to deserve the title.” Voice low and breathy, her lips a hairs-breadth from Clara’s skin. She kisses her way up Clara’s belly, between her breasts, biting just hard enough at the junction between neck and shoulder to leave a mark. “Doctor.”  
  
Fuck it, this is heaven, Clara’s calling it now.


End file.
